The orphanage had been a place of chaos, where the cries of children often echoed louder than laughter. Vastarael, barely a teenager himself, had always stood apart. Not because he wanted to, but because something in him didn't fit with the other kids his age.
Still, he always found himself drawn to the younger ones.
One day, he found a little boy and girl crying in the corner of the playroom, their faces buried in their tiny hands. The matron, exasperated, stood nearby with crossed arms.
"I don't have time for this, Veneri," she muttered, shaking her head. "They've been like this for an hour after I scolded them for fighting. I can't do anything with them right now."
Vastarael had tilted his head, his dark hair falling into his face.
"I'll handle it."
The matron raised an eyebrow.
"You? Handle it? And what makes you think you can get through to them when I can't?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he crouched down beside the two children.
"Hey, come here," he said, opening his arms.
At first, they didn't move. Their little shoulders shook as they sniffled, too upset to even look at him. But Vastarael didn't rush them. He stayed there, patiently waiting. Slowly and hesitantly, they shuffled closer.
When they finally collapsed into his arms, he hugged them tightly, one on each side. He didn't say much. He didn't need to. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle strength of his embrace were enough to calm them.
"Why do you always do that?" The matron had asked later, her voice tinged with both curiosity and confusion. "Every time one of the kids cries, you're the first to comfort them. Even when it's not your job."
Vastarael had shrugged, his lips curling into a faint smile.
"I don't know. Maybe it's because I don't remember my parents. When I was sent here, I was scared all the time, but no one ever hugged me. I guess... I just don't want them to feel like that. Not if I can help it."
The matron had softened at his words, her expression growing thoughtful.
"You're too soft on them, Vastarael. They'll come to rely on you too much."
"Maybe. But that's not so bad, is it?"
The matron had shaken her head, muttering something about him being "hopeless," but she couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips.
And Vastarael had smiled too, the kind of smile that came from a place of quiet joy.
______
Now, as he knelt in the heart of chaos, holding a girl who threatened to burn the world to ashes, that same smile ghosted across his lips.
Her energy pushed against him, tearing at his already battered body, but he didn't let go. The little girl trembled in his arms, her small hands clutching at his torn shirt as if she didn't understand what was happening.
The connection he'd felt earlier now made perfect sense. She was like him, a child who had lost everything, consumed by emotions too big for her small frame to bear.
And then, Memory Extraction began to subconsciously activate.
He could read the memories of what the girls had gone through. The more he saw it, the more his face turned from calmness to absolute sadness.
And so, he shared his memories of his past life to her using Memory Implantation.
The pain, the torture, the experiments, the deaths of the children are the orphanage, all of it.
Compared to what he saw from the girl's memories, it was nothing.
"I don't know your name. I don't know who you are and I don't know why you went through such a hard life. But..."
He hugged her tighter, releasing all his essence in full force. The sapphire blue energy began to overwhelm the girl. His Omniphage was converting the girl's energy into his own, calming down the girl.
"I can tell you that life isn't all bad. I got a second chance and you should too. It doesn't matter how painful it is. Burn the world if you want but don't let the sadness destroy you. Alright?"
The shockwaves began to slow, the toxic energy around them dimming. The crimson fires still burned, the city still crumbled, but the storm of her anguish was easing.
Then, the girl clung to him. Her tiny hands gripped at his tattered black hoodie, and her sobs came—not the earth-shaking wails that had torn apart the city, but the loud, messy cries of a child who had been holding in too much for far too long.
The skies began to clear, the darkness retreating as the shockwaves eased. The fires that had consumed the city began to smolder and die, leaving behind the faint scent of ash and regret.
For the first time since the chaos had begun, the world felt still.
Vastarael let out a slow breath, feeling the girl's tears soak into his clothes.
"That's it," he murmured, smoothing her wild hair with a steady hand. "Let it out. You don't have to carry it alone anymore."
And then he felt it.
A warmth stirred deep inside him, subtle at first but growing stronger. His injuries, the burns and gashes that had nearly torn him apart, were slowly mending themselves. It wasn't his essence healing him.
This was different.
The girl's energy, the very same power that had wreaked devastation moments before, was flowing back into him, gently repairing the damage she had caused. He blinked in surprise but said nothing, only tightening his embrace.
"You did that to me, huh? Aw geez... I'll make sure you have a good life. No matter what. I didn't expect to have this role so soon."
The girl's cries grew softer, her body leaning heavily against his as exhaustion began to take hold. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the chaos had settled, leaving behind only two souls; one broken, the other vowing to piece her back together.
°°°°°°°
The city was unrecognizable. The once-bustling streets, filled with life and laughter, now lay in ruin. Scorched buildings leaned precariously, their blackened frames groaning under the weight of destruction. Ash floated in the air like snow, settling gently over the charred remains of humanity. The smell of burnt flesh and stone was suffocating.
Vastarael sat in the middle of the plaza, his back resting against the cracked base of a ruined fountain. His body was battered, his clothes torn, yet he sat still as though the chaos around him didn't exist.
In his arms, a little girl slept, her small frame curled up against him. Her face, tear-streaked and soft, betrayed no hint of the catastrophe she had caused. She slept soundly, peacefully, as though nothing had happened at all.
Next to him, Phaenora sat cross-legged on the ground, her gaze fixed on the horrifying scene that surrounded them. Bodies were everywhere; some burned beyond recognition, others frozen in grotesque contortions of agony. Men, women, children, no one had been spared. The sheer scale of it was unimaginable.
Over fifty thousand lives, wiped out in a single, raw explosion of emotion.
"You're telling me… all of this… was her?"
She gestured to the lifeless city around them, her usually teasing tone replaced by disbelief.
Vastarael didn't answer immediately. His golden eyes remained on the girl in his arms, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Finally, he exhaled, his voice steady but tinged with a deep exhaustion.
"Yeah."
Phaenora shook her head, running a hand through her disheveled hair.
"This is insane. A child did this. A little girl… fifty thousand people, Veneri. for what? Because she was sad?"
"Yeah."
The silence stretched between them for a moment, filled only by the faint crackle of dying embers and the distant groan of collapsing structures. Phaenora sighed heavily, her eyes drifting back to the child.
"I saw you do something," she said after a pause, her voice more measured now. "You read her memories, didn't you? You saw everything."
Vastarael finally looked up at her, his golden eyes meeting her sapphire blue ones. His face was unreadable, but the weight behind his gaze was enough to make Phaenora hesitate.
He didn't answer right away, his jaw tightening slightly. After a moment, he looked away, his gaze returning to the sleeping girl.
"I'm not telling you."
Phaenora frowned. "Not even a hint?"
"No."
His voice was firmer now, though not unkind.
"It's not something you need to know. Not now. Not ever. Believe me, it's not worth telling you."
Phaenora stared at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. It wasn't often that Vastarael shut her down so completely and it left her unsettled. She wanted to press him, to demand answers, but the look on his face stopped her. He was guarding those memories, protecting them as though they weren't his to share.
"Fine," she muttered, leaning back against the scorched ground. "Keep your secrets. But don't think I'm dropping this forever."
Vastarael didn't respond. His focus remained on the girl, his mind elsewhere. Despite the horrors they had just witnessed, he felt a strange sense of responsibility. This child, this broken soul, had unleashed something monstrous. But now, in her slumber, she was just a little girl again.
And he was going to make sure she never had to endure that kind of pain again.
In the supernatural world, thousands dying because of unreasonable justifications was normal. During the time when Stephos hunted him and Adelasta down, 3000 beings died.
When though this was a very small section of the Borough, it didn't make a difference. If you are weak, you are bound to die at the hands of the strong. That's the law of the a supernatural setting no matter how brutal it was.
Did he feel anything for those who died? Pity, perhaps.
And indifference.
"Are you going to adopt her now?"
Vastarael nodded. "Yup. I can't believe I'm saying this, but this girl doesn't belong to this place. I think I now understand why EPOCH brought us here. And from the looks of it, I can't say it out loud until I figure it out."
Vastarael was slowly beginning to understand the reason for the Epoch Cycle and of course, the way the world worked.
'EPOCH sent me back in time to save this girl. But why? Why would she go out of its way to send me back in time and save a little girl?'
He already knew who the girl was and where she came from. But still...
'What role does Vastarael Richinaria have in this world?'